


Dean Winchester and the Tentacle Eggs of Pleasure

by omgbubblesomg



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, M/M, Medical kink adjacent, Mpreg, Multi, Other, Oviposition, Past Rape/Non-con, Physical Restraint, Tentacles, byo brain bleach, episode s13e17 The Thing, reluctant wincestiel, sentient noodles, so many things in Dean's butt, things in Dean's butt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 14:39:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14522805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omgbubblesomg/pseuds/omgbubblesomg
Summary: "Hey, Cas, didn’t expect to see you here. Don’t mind the fingers up my ass I think there aretentacle eggs up there."





	Dean Winchester and the Tentacle Eggs of Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Dean Winchester and the Tentacles of Pleasure](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14491278) by [HazelDomain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazelDomain/pseuds/HazelDomain). 



> Set after Dean gets implanted with eggs
> 
> Many thanks to [hazeldomain](hazeldomain.tumblr.com) for creating the porny bedrock on which i build my temple. To [gertiecraign](gertiecraign.tumblr.com) for being an amazing beta as always. And to [metarachel](rachelhaimowitz.tumblr.com) for being not the bad influence we deserve, but the bad influence we need.

He had tried to fix it himself but there was literally no angle that allowed him to reach into his own body to extract the whatever-the-fucks Glythur had deposited. Cas had busted down the door when he’d refused to let him in. And hadn’t _that_ been a fun conversation.

Hey, Cas, didn’t expect to see you here. Don’t mind the fingers up my ass I think there are _tentacle eggs up there._

Plan B had been to punch himself in the stomach, to try and crack em open. But plan B had proved to be a little, uh. _Jarring._ The eggs were flexible and all he’d ended up doing was, well, punching himself in the stomach.

So now he was on his hands and knees on the bathroom floor and Cas was doing his damndest to be professional about sticking a pair of forceps in his butt and it was a fucking _problem_.

The problem wasn’t the forceps.

The problem wasn’t even that Dean had actually had a little Cas crush before this. Though that was definitely off the table for the foreseeable future.

The problem was that with every passing minute his rim was getting tighter, and if Cas didn’t get these things out _now_ then there was a chance he wouldn’t be able to get them out at all. Angel grace slid off them like oil on water so, yep. The old-fashioned grab-em-and-yank method was being employed.

He put his face in his hands. How was this his life?

He tried to be grateful that at least Sam had shown up before Glythur had possessed him, though a five-minute earlier arrival would have been ideal.

“I think I’ve got one,” Cas muttered, angling the forceps inside him. Dean couldn’t help but clench as he thought about the thing Cas was grabbing. Which of course did nothing to help matters as Cas’s hold slipped.

“Sorry,” he groaned. “Sorry, sorry, I—”

“You can’t move!”

“I know, I’m sorry, I’m trying.”

He looked over his shoulder to watch Cas wipe his face with the back of his hand. “We need a speculum,” Cas mumbled.

“We _what?”_

“A speculum. An instrument for—"

“I know what it _is.”_ He’d seen enough kinky porn to know he was not at all interested in having one of those near his ass, thank you very much.

Whatever was inside him shifted and he about-faced so fast he nearly got whiplash. Okay. Maybe he did want a speculum. If it meant Cas could get these things out _right the fuck now._

“Where do we find one?” he groaned.

“We could wait until morning and check the local stores.”

He grunted. Something _squelched_ inside him. He could actually, literally feel the squelch. “I don’t think we have until morning, Cas.”

Cas paused, then seemed to have an idea. “I know what will work. Don’t move.”

As if Dean would. Every position except this one pressed the stuff in his stomach downwards. Which felt like needing to shit and piss simultaneously. Had Glythur just planned on being tits down ass up for the first day of life in Dean’s body?

Cas’s footsteps announced his arrival. Dean turned to see what he’d brought with him

…and promptly tried to grab the nearest towel.

“Jesus, fuck, Sammy, get the fuck out.”

Sam was so green he might have been an alien himself. Which. Yeah. Walking in on the sight of your brother’s stretched ass would probably do that.

“Sam has agreed to help,” Cas said coolly. He took up his place behind Dean and gestured Sam forward. Dean tried to scuttle away but Cas grabbed his hips to keep him in place.

“He’s not gonna like this,” Sam muttered.

“Who’s not gonna like what?” Dean had a bad feeling that he was the ‘who’ in this situation. “Sam? What’re you— _hey!”_

Sam came around to his front and promptly kneeled on his arms, quickly stopping any chance Dean had of getting away. “Don’t fight,” he warned. “This is gonna suck either way so maybe just try and make it suck less by not fighting.”

“Make _what_ suck less?”

Sam grabbed a towel and bundled it up, shoving it under Dean’s head like a lumpy, scratchy pillow. Then he reached over Dean’s body, visibly held back a barf, and slipped his fingers into Dean’s asshole.

“No. Fucking. _WAY!_ Sam! GET OUT!” Dean strained against their hold but either the tentacle secretions were still making him woozy or the eggs were mucking with his muscles because he couldn’t get himself out of their hold. The way Sam was leaning over him meant his head was in between Sam’s legs and Sam’s forearms were on his lower back, helping to hold him down.

“Make it quick,” Sam said, holding back a gag. Oh like _he_ could complain. He didn’t have _multiple things up his butt_ right now.

“I need more room,” Cas said quietly, maybe hoping Dean wouldn’t hear. Ha. Tough luck for all of them.

Sam had two fingers from each hand in Dean’s ass and at Cas’s command he pulled them out, stretching Dean wide.

“Oh my God, Dean,” he wheezed, no doubt getting way too much of a view of just how far Dean’s body could stretch. “Oh that’s. Oh fuck I’m gonna be sick.”

 _“Not cool,”_ Dean hissed. He tried to clench down but Sam’s fingers weren’t going anywhere.

“Perfect,” Cas said primly. And then the cold forceps were back, delving straight in.

 _“Not cool,”_ Dean hissed again, except he wasn’t talking to Sam this time. He thunked his head down on the towel to stare upside-down at his cock. Which apparently had no qualms at all about having two people and some tentacle eggs in his body. As Cas ferreted around inside him his cock thickened up, pointing straight up. Or down. “Fuck off,” he told it. It drooled happily and did not, in fact, fuck off.

“Steady,” Cas warned. “I’ve got one.” Dean clenched helplessly but with Sam’s fingers holding him open he had absolutely no effect on Cas as he began to tug and pull.

“You haven’t got one,” Dean grunted. “Pretty sure that’s my spleen.”

Cas tugged anyway until the thing detached—okay fuck maybe it wasn’t his spleen—from whatever it had been clinging to. And then Dean had the almighty desire to _push._

“If anything else comes out I’m tapping out,” Sam said, trying to keep his head as far away as possible without removing his fingers. Dean had absolutely no idea if he was going to be able to stop himself if anything else wanted to come out because getting an egg forcibly forcepped out of his ass felt a lot like taking a massive dump, except with Sam and Cas standing in the line of fire.

“Oh fuck,” he wheezed. “Oh fuck, it’s coming, oh fuck.”

Theoretically it should have felt the same as when it had gone in, except in reverse. It felt _nothing_ like that. He was not stretched enough for this. His body literally could not accommodate a single skerrick more pressure. It rubbed up against his prostate as Cas manoeuvred it to his entrance. Or exit. Whatever.

“UGH IT’S TOUCHING ME!” How the hell could Sam be worried about a tentacle egg touching him when he was literally holding Dean’s ass open.

He didn’t have time to worry about that question as Cas started tugging in earnest. He felt himself open up around it, so wide he thought for sure he had to be at the widest point until he stretched _even wider._ He bore down, shouting through his clenched teeth and begging his body to fucking cooperate _trust me you don’t want that in you if it decides to hatch._ The muscles of his stomach cramped fitfully as he tried to force it out through sheer force of willpower.

“Almost,” Cas murmured. Dean bit down on the towel and _shoved._

And then suddenly it was out. He felt it come free with the accompanying sound of Sam retching as his hole tried to close back around it. Sam valiantly kept him open and the cold air made him feel just how wet he was. Without any pressure on his rim he felt weirdly _empty._ Which was _absurd_ because there was definitely more than one of those horrible things inside him.

He sagged onto the bathroom floor and was retroactively grateful that Sam had put a towel beneath his head. Jesus fuck he was so wrecked.

“You’re disowned,” he told his cock, which was just as hard—if not harder—than before.

“One down,” Cas said cheerfully. Oh God how many of them _were there?_

The forceps went back in.

The next one was easier. Maybe it was smaller or maybe his body hadn’t had time to tighten. He couldn’t care less as long as they were no longer in him. Cas pulled it out then wriggled around for another one, and then another. He had no idea what Cas was doing to the ones he removed. Blowing them up, hopefully. Maybe he’d leave one for Dean to use the grenade launcher on.

Each one rubbed against his prostate in a way that was absolutely the opposite of pleasurable. Except his dick apparently disagreed and spent the whole time getting fatter and heavier as each egg came free.

The next egg was wedged particularly deep and Cas had to root around for half a minute, trying to dislodge it. He was so deep in Dean’s ass that his fingertips brushed Dean’s rim, even with the forceps fully extended. Every moment of skin-on-skin contact made his cock drool and twitch and when Cas finally got a hold on the egg Dean begged for a break.

“Wait, wait, I’m gonna—” Cas ignored him, like he’d ignored all the other times Dean had told them to just get lost and leave him with the forceps and a machete.

The egg took its sweet time coming out. Was Cas making it slow on purpose? Each inch dragged along his insides, rubbing up against that sweet spot. He felt the now-familiar stretch as it reached the muscle of his rim and he grunted, trying desperately to control his dick via telekinesis.

“Almost there…” Cas murmured.

 _That makes two of us,_ Dean almost said. He needn’t have bothered keeping it to himself because a moment later the egg slipped free and his dick twitched once, twice, and with a groan he came onto the tiles between his knees.

“Dude, did you just—”

“A warning next time would be appreciated,” Cas said, throwing a towel down but not making any move at all to let Dean up.

“I tried to warn you,” he mumbled, cock still twitching and dribbling.

“Try harder,” Sam snapped.

Cas went back in for the next one. How many more could there possibly be? Where before every touch had felt a little bit pleasurable, now it was on the painful side of _overstimulating_ and Dean was tapping the fuck out.

“Just gimme a minute,” he groaned.

They did not give him a minute.

The next egg scraped over his prostate like electric sandpaper. Was that a thing? It absolutely should not be a thing. It felt exactly like it sounded. He clenched his teeth against the string of curse words that threatened to spill out.

Cas tugged and tugged. Dean wasn’t getting hard again, at least he hoped he wasn’t, but his cock twitched valiantly.

“Don’t you dare,” he threatened it. Cas pulled the egg to its widest point and Dean bore down until it, too, slipped out. His cock blurted a trickle of fluid onto the towel.

“One more,” Cas said cheerfully. Sam said what was probably on everyone’s minds.

“Thank fucking Christ.”

Dean was still staring upside-down at his cock when he felt it.

Something _lurched_ inside him.

“Uh, guys?”

“Don’t tell me you’re about to jizz again because seriously, Dean. That was disgusting.”

“No, I uh. I think it’s hatching.”

The thing lurched again and there was the unmistakable sound of something cracking deep in Dean’s belly.

Time paused long enough for Sam and Cas to both make a sound of utter revulsion, and then Dean shrieked as whatever was inside him went absolutely _ape-shit._ He could feel it writhing around his insides, pulsing and squirming and… oh god, was it trying to get further in?

“Get it out, get it out, _get it out!”_

No time for any finessing, if whatever Cas had been doing before could be called finesse. He plunged back in with the forceps. The thing _did not_ like that. It squirmed and pummelled at him from the inside.

“It’s too wriggly!”

“Cas I don’t care how wriggly it is you’ve gotta get it out!”

Sam was craning round to try and see in, too. “Are those _tentacles?”_

 _“ARE THEY?”_ he shouted. No one replied. Which was _not_ a good sign. There was a tentacle baby inside him he was going to have a goddamn aneurysm. “Get it _out!”_

“Every time I grab a tentacle it wriggles away!”

“Grab _harder!”_

Cas pulled the forceps free and Dean struggled in Sam’s hold, trying to see what was going on. It looked like Cas was rolling his shirtsleeves up. The thing was wriggling and searching against the bottom of his stomach.

_“Caaaaaas!”_

“Hold him,” Cas ordered calmly. And then his fingers joined Sam’s in his ass.

“Nope,” Dean said, steadfastly refusing to believe what Cas was trying to do. Because it _felt_ like he was trying to fit his whole hand in there. And that was absolutely not happening.

“Squeeze your fingers together,” Sam murmured.

 _“Dude!_ You are not giving fisting tips to Cas right now!”

Cas squeezed his fingers together and corkscrewed quickly, getting deeper and deeper with each pass. Dean’s cock twitched like Cas was corkscrewing _it_ instead. Whatever the hell that meant. The thing in Dean’s belly paused its thrashing as though it was watching the proceedings. It vibrated gently like it was enjoying itself and Dean was glad it wasn’t doing that near his prostate because _damn._

He was well stretched from the eggs but Cas still felt huge as his knuckles forced Dean wider. Sam’s fingers tugged at his rim, trying to help.

“Hey Cas,” Dean panted, going straight past anger, bargaining and depression and arriving at acceptance. “Hey Cas, am I your right-hand man?”

Apparently that didn’t warrant a response. Cas shoved harder and Dean’s body opened like a glove, closing over Cas’s wrist. He backtracked all five steps of grief and ended back at denial. Oh God he was going to need _so much booze._ He was going to need a metric tonne of booze.

The tendril baby wriggled excitedly as Cas uncurled his fingers and he upped his estimate to two tonnes.

Cas pushed his hand in and Dean’s body swallowed him up. Sam leaned back without taking the weight off Dean’s arms. He wiped his fingers on the towel under Dean’s head (“Dude”) and grabbed the bottle of lube, drizzling some on Cas’s forearm. Which meant he though Cas’s forearm needed to get in Dean’s ass.

Dean panicked and tried to shift away, sliding Cas’s arm out a half inch before his fist caught on Dean’s rim and stopped him going any further. Sam pushed him back into place and Dean struggled away again. Cas’s arm moved in and out only that half inch. He was fucking himself on Cas’s fucking _arm_ was that an automatic ticket to hell?

“Stay still,” Cas warned, stretching his fingers out and wriggling them against Dean’s inner walls. His knuckles brushed Dean’s prostate and Dean had the sudden clarity to realise he was probably going to come with Cas’s hand inside him unless Cas got out in the next 2 seconds.

“Hurry this up,” he wheezed, clenching uselessly against the enormous intrusion.

“I can’t… quite… reach…”

Dean could feel the tentacle thing wriggling back away from Cas’s fingers. And if he didn’t have a front row seat in hell he was about to get one because, “Rub your knuckles down.”

“What?”

“Rub your knuckles down. The thing it… it likes when you… when you pleasure me.” Words were hard. _Dean_ was hard. Cas’s knuckles rubbed against his prostate and he was somehow even harder. “Again,” he begged. Cas did it again and he seemed to find the perfect spot because the tentacle baby did something that felt like a cross between a somersault and getting kicked in the nuts, and then it wriggled up to meet Cas’s hand.

“I’ve got it!”

“Yank it out.”

“I can’t I don’t want it to wriggle away again.” He began coaxing it backwards, so freaking slowly. It was more interested in rubbing its little tentacle arms on the spot Cas had pointed out to it. Cas kept pulling it out. “Dean,” he said. “Push.”

Oh great. More pushing.

He bore down as Cas’s fist pressed against him from the inside. The pressure combined with the tentacle wiggling on his prostate was going to end in disaster, he could already tell.

“Cas,” he warned. “Speed it up there, pal.”

Cas did nothing of the sort. If anything he started moving _slower._ Dean pushed down with a groan, prepared to squeeze them both out by himself if he had to. He widened around Cas’s fist incrementally.

“Little help?” he grunted at Sam. Sam grimaced but leaned back over him, pulling Dean’s cheeks apart with both hands. There probably wasn’t enough therapy in the world for them after this.

“Here it comes,” Cas murmured, and his knuckles slipped free.

_“Gross.”_

Dean tried to crane over his shoulder to get a glimpse but Sam was in the way.

“What’s gross? Is it out?”

“This whole thing is gross,” Sam said drily. “And there’s one tentacle out.”

“Just grab it and pull!”

“It’s _slimy.”_

“That’s what soap’s for. Grab it!” Cas’s fingers followed the rest of his hand out, tentacles entwined around them. Some of the pressure disappeared as they came free but most of the tentacles were still inside because Dean could feel them exploring his prostate. “You have twenty fucking seconds,” he warned.

Sam groaned and grabbed at the nearest tentacle, tugging it. Cas pressed his fingers back into Dean’s ass to scoop more of them out.

“As soon as you see it’s face just shoot it,” Dean groaned. He strained against Sam’s knees, trying to get a hand free. He half wanted to grab at the tentacles and half at his own dick.

“I don’t think it _has_ a face. I can’t even find where all these arms are connected.”

“Then shoot _me,”_ Dean moaned. How the hell did a faceless tentacle baby have such goddamn _precision?_ It was going to town on that sweet spot inside him.

“Almost,” Cas said, and for the second time that day Dean was right there with him. He dropped his head to the towel, begged for forgiveness, and _shoved._

The tentacle baby gave one last rub of his prostate before slipping free, which was lucky because Dean’s body locked up after it and he came like a fucking freight train. He opened his eyes to look down his body just in time to see a ball of writhing black tentacles drop to the ground between his legs and get splattered with come. Sam jumped away from him and without anyone holding him in place Dean fell sideways onto the floor.

There was a thirty second pause while they all lay in various corners of the bathroom, staring at the ball of whatever-it-was as it floundered on the towels. It looked like a bowl of ramen noodles dipped in ink. And streaked with white frosting. Gross.

Dean was just about to suggest grabbing the grenade launcher when the bowl of noodles stood up on a handful of shaky tentacles.

“It looks harmless,” Sam said dubiously.

Dean was about to tell him exactly how wrong he was when the noodles shook themselves, coiled up, and then fucking _launched_ themselves across the room, landing with a splat on Sam’s face.

Sam yelped and tried to pull it off but it wrapped its arms around his head, dripping something clear and viscous.

“That can’t be hygienic,” Cas muttered, and Dean pointedly did not think about where the tentacle baby had been before deciding to attach itself to Sam’s face.

“Help!” came a muffled shout from beneath the swarm of sentient noodles.

“It’s harmless,” Dean snarked, before getting up with a sigh and going to sit on Sam’s chest so Cas could pull the tentacles out of his mouth.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked the fic please throw a kudos at me so I know you made it this far <3
> 
> Want something else to read? You might also like [Pretty Tied Up](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2552375) by KatStark, or [The Cold One And The Boys It Cracked Open](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12743466) by AnOddSock


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